


The Little Joys of Living, Lying, and Falling in Love

by Blurble



Series: The little joys of living, lying, and falling in love [2]
Category: Aveyond
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blurble/pseuds/Blurble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mel spends six months in the Darkthrop Academy, learning how to be a spy and also how to avoid</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Might be the Beginning of a Horrible Headache

Her first official day of school, and it made her nervous. And that made her annoyed, because she’d survived 17 years without any real schooling and there was no need at all for her to worr-  
  
Screw that, it just made her more nervous. She was going into a den of… of… not lions, this was much, much worse.  _Nobles_.  
  
People who had been allowed into school since they were kids. Not viciously grabbed by the hair and dragged crying and screaming out the door-  
  
She squashed the memory firmly back into the recesses of her mind. This was not Harburg General Academy, and she was not seven years old anymore.  
  
Plus, they didn’t need to know that she had never gotten any proper schooling. She could fool them all, yeah, prove it didn’t even make a difference…  
  
\---  
  
“So I take it you’ve never had any proper schooling.”  
  
It was the first thing Professor Grey said to her when she walked in through his door.  
  
She stopped short.  
  
“Me… never had… Of course I’ve had, obviously, how could I not…”  
  
Professor Grey sighed. “You really are a terrible liar.” He looked despondently at one of the papers on his desk and dropped it into a wastebasket, then turned towards her once again, his gaze flicking up and down, looking her over.   
  
“I thought we might be able push that off, but it becomes apparent that it will have to be one of the first things we work on. Secrecy, I’m sure you understand, is very important to us, and it won’t do if whenever someone asks you a slightly confidential question you immediately start stuttering out the most transparently false nonsense.”  
  
“Oh. Well…”  
  
“The other thing will be catching up on your general education,” He said, smiling. It was a frightening smile. She found herself unconsciously backing away from it.   
  
“It is inconceivable that a spy not know how to read, for example,” He said, rising from his desk and coming towards her.  
  
“I know how to read!” She protested, backing away further.  
  
He paused. “Fancy that. She speaks the truth, for once. And what else do you know?”  
  
She hesitated. “Well… History, Geography…”  
  
His smile widened, and she gulped.  
  
“I’m thinking we will have to establish an… appropriate penalty, every time I catch you in a lie. And of course you will presumably need to lie quite often, so the key word there is ‘catch’. Hm. For now, I do believe this study had a bathroom which desperately needs cleaning. Please do so. Thoroughly.”  
  
She considered protesting. But there was something about the way he was… still smiling at her, non-stop, that made her suspect that if she protested she would find herself wishing she was dead.  
  
Goddess, this teacher was frightening.  
  
“More scary than you could possibly imagine,” he said, laughing, and she shuddered all the way down to her toes.  
\---  
  
“Mel!” someone shouted as she was leaving class, and she turned to see Edward, running down the hall towards her.  
  
Oh god, she wasn’t in the mood.  
  
“You have lunch break now, right?” He asked.  
  
She nodded warily, wondering where this was going.  
  
“How about I show you on of the best places to eat in Thais?” He asked.  
  
“No.” She said, flatly shooting him down.  
  
“C’mon…” He wheedled.  
  
“No.” She said, turning away.  
  
He moved neatly in front of her. “It’s a small café, really really reasonably priced, and it has this lunch special where you get this really delicious sandwich made with fresh, crisp salad and the most tender, perfectly spiced meat you’ve ever tasted, all on this freshly baked, perfectly crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside…”  
  
“Ah! Enough! I get it already!” Mel said. Her stomach grumbled miserable agreement.  
  
“You’re hungry, right? And it’s really, really good. I’m not making it up. What do you lose?” He said, and apparently satisfied that she couldn’t possibly have any further objections, he began pulling on her hand to drag her after him.  
  
She could have resisted or broken away, but… Oh, food. It was so wonderful. Definitely worth putting up with a minor irritation like-  
  
\---  
  
He talked  _the entire time_.  
  
She thought she was going to go insane.  
  
She had tried, really hard, to discourage him. She had uttered only the occasional non-commital “Mhm” and “Really?”  
  
But instead of achieving the desired effect- that was, having him run out of things to talk about- it seemed to simply open the floodgates wider, as he rambled on excitedly about, oh, astrology and astronomy and lichen and dog breeding.   
  
“Well, that was fun,” he said cheerfully, as they finally finished and left the café.   
  
“Mmmm,” she groaned miserably, already cradling the beginnings of a horrible headache.  
  
\---  
  
Professor Grey took one look at her as she stumbled back into class and sent her home.  
  
“It’s nothing really,” she insisted, “there was just an annoying boy who talked a lot, it’s just a headache…”  
  
“Mel,” the professor said, “I can recognize sleep deprivation combined with traumatic shock when I see it. You are useless to me like this. Go to sleep. And if you can’t, visit the healers in the temple. Even if you can fall asleep, you are to visit the healers tomorrow morning before coming to me.”  
  
She staggered out of his office fuming.  
  
That stupid boy! This was all his fault.  
  
But when she arrived at her apartment she suddenly found that she really was incredibly exhausted. Funny how she hadn’t noticed, how her eyes felt like popping out and her senses were swimmi…  
  
\---  
  
 _A dark shadow was chasing after her, laughing so coldly she could feel her heart freezing. She was running away, but so slow, too slow.  
  
The trees were reaching out and catching her and she could see the shadow whip away a cloak to reveal dead-white skin and glowing red eyes, and a gaping hungry mouth that lunged forward like a snake and drove sharp burning spears of pain into her throat..._  
  
\---  
  
She woke bathed in cold sweat. Her head felt like someone had exploded a bomb in it.  
  
 _She was going to die, she was going to die…_  
  
In her blind, mindless panic she remembered what the professor had ordered her to do that afternoon.  
  
“Go to the healers,” he had said, and it was ridiculous really because how was that going to help-  
  
No, Mel, calm down. Gyendal didn’t get you, you’re not dead, even if it was…  
  
So so close and had Te’ijal been one second later…  
  
She was lost in the memory of that panicked, lonely, night-long flight through the unfamiliar mountains, the ever-present feeling of paralyzing fear because he was  _following right behind her_  and she was so out of her depth…  
  
And she was going to die. She needed only to see how he looked at her that one time to know it for a certainty. He would use her and kill her, some horrible way she couldn’t imagine, and probably no one would find her body and certainly no one would care…  
  
She curled up on the floor of her apartment and sobbed, for the first time in years, sobbed so hard it hurt and she had difficulty breathing.  
  
And then she picked herself up, tears still pouring helplessly from her eyes. God, she was so pathetic.  
  
At that a fresh wave of tears burst forth, it wasn’t even her crying anymore, it was something else-  
  
She staggered out into the street and was indescribably grateful that the streets were mostly empty as she stumbled her tear-blinded way to the healers.


	2. Look of Pure Disgust Copyright by Mel

She slept in the temple that night. The beds there were soft and warm and smelled of some unfamiliar, comfortable scent which was possibly the reason she drifted off so easily, although that could also have been the strange thick mixture they made her drink beforehand.  
  
What she’d been expecting was that they would ask her questions when she came, but instead they shuffled her straight off to bed.  
  
In the morning a priestess came with water to wash her face, and told her that they were drying her clothes outside right now, if she would just come back later that afternoon they would be ready for her. Only then did she realize that she was now wearing a soft linen gown instead of her usual street clothes.  
  
The priestess seemed to notice her dismay, because she suggested that perhaps Mel would prefer to go to school in something else.  
  
“What makes you think I go to school?” Mel said, immediately suspicious.  
  
The priestess looked taken aback. “You are of schooling age, surely? I apologize if I made a mistake.”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Mel said, embarrassed and not sure why. “I mean, I do go to school.” Goddess, it felt  _weird_ saying that sentence.  
  
She looked away, feeling awkward. Out the wide temple windows, the sun was already crawling the way up the sky, hanging over the city roofs-  
  
Aaaaaaah dammit she was going to be late.  
  
\---  
  
“And why are you so late today?” Professor Grey asked, resting his chin on his hand.  
  
“Because I was-”   
  
“If your answer has anything to do with the temple, I will kill you,” He said, smiling.  
  
“I was passing by the market when a crying boy asked me to-”  
  
“Obvious lie! Three rounds of toilet cleaning! And make it sparkle!”  
  
As she was shuffling off to the bathroom, cleaning supplies in hand, he added-  
  
“And while we’re discussing rules here, you are forbidden from leaving this city before you’ve successfully pulled off a mission. If you try, I will catch you.”  
  
 _…And what happens after that?_  The question hovered on the tip of her tongue, but there was no way she was going to ask it. It was enough to see Professor Grey’s look of sadistic anticipation to know that she wouldn’t be thinking of leaving the city for quite a while.  
  
\---   
  
“Mel!” Someone shouted as she walked down the Central Hall.  
  
Well, who else? Of course it was Edward.   
  
It was time to set the record straight with the boy.  
  
“How are you feeling?” He asked. “You looked a little… green, yesterday.”  
  
“Fine.” She said, shortly, and swept past him.  
  
He didn’t take the hint.  
  
“And then I didn’t see you leaving when school was dismisses, so I was kinda worried-” He ran his fingers through his hair, “I mean, not in a creepy way, just…”  
  
She tried walking faster, but he easily kept pace with her, until she was practically running- and he was still loping along in a relaxed, easy stride.  
  
Dammit.  
  
“Listen,” she said, and she dragged him with her into a side corridor.  
  
He grinned. “Ooh, this sounds exciting.”  
  
“Shut up,” she said. “And stop smiling like that. I appreciate your help two nights ago, I really do, so in return I’m going to get a certain ridiculous idea out of your head. We are not friends. We’re not going to be friends. To make this completely, utterly clear, I do not want to be friends with you. I’m busy and you’re bothering me. Please go away.”  
  
She stalked away furiously. He was still standing there, as if he was frozen in shock, and that was making her even angrier because something about the kicked-puppy look in his eyes was making her feel hollow and rotten inside and it was completely and entirely his fault.  
  
\---  
  
So maybe he’d sort of known this was coming.   
  
Still, that didn’t make her way of handling it any less…  
  
He wondered who had told her, because she pretty clearly hadn’t known who he was two nights ago or even yesterday.   
  
He slumped against the wall.  
  
It didn’t bother him. It definitely didn’t. He was used to…  
  
\---  
  
Oh, dammit all.  
  
She whirled around.  
  
 _What?!_  She practically demanded.  
  
“Um.” He said, straightening up. “No, it’s nothing, I guess I… Just- Who told you?”  
  
“Um… what?” She said, completely lost.  
  
\---  
  
You couldn’t fake the look of utter confusion in the girl’s eyes.   
  
But she had to know. She’d been all friendly and smiley to him up until she-  
  
Pause. Rewind.  
  
She had been all friendly and smiley…  
  
He had to laugh at himself just for having thought of the words “Friendly” and “Smiley” in a description of Mel.  
  
He felt himself break into a grin.  
  
“Why are you smiling like an idiot?” She asked, then groaned. “Forget it. I don’t even want to know. I can’t believe that even for a second I-” She stopped abruptly.  
  
“Wait, what? You can’t believe that even for a second you what?” He said.  
  
“N-nothing! Absolutely nothing! Why am I still talking to you right now? I’m going to be late for class.” She shot him a death glare. “This is completely your fault.”   
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands defensively. “So… what time are you free for lunch?”  
  
She shot him a look of pure disgust. “Were you not even  _listening_  to me earlier? We’re not friends, okay? Stop trying to act friendly.”  
  
“No, no,” he said, “not as friends-”  
  
Well. That was a look of pure panic if he had ever seen one.  
  
“I’m sorry but I’m  _completely_  not interested in you in that way, please don’t even  _joke_ …” She shuddered. “Ugh, I’m going to be nauseous for a week.” She pantomimed throwing up, clutching her stomach and doubling over.  
  
“Not like that!” He insisted, although the earnestness was kind of ruined by the laughter in his voice (she was rocking back and forth moaning loudly for a wastebasket). “Just to get lunch together. Not as friends. I guess I didn’t tell you yesterday but there’s this restaurant that has a special sale if you come as a pair, so it really helps me if I have a second person…”  
  
“Get someone else, then.” She said, flatly. “I have to go. Bye.”   
  
\---  
  
But of course he was waiting for her as soon as she left class.  
  
“Go away,” she said, cross from an hour and a half of mind-numbing  _geography_. “I’m not in the mood for you right now.”  
  
“B-but I’ve been waiting all this time. And I’m so  _hungry_ …” He looked at her with big, beseeching green eyes and an expression of-  
  
“Ah dammit! Alright, I’ll go, just- stop looking at me like that!”  
  
The hurt puppy-dog expression was replaced with one of joyful relief. She couldn’t help but feel relieved along with it. Damn his stupid, expressive face.   
  
\---  
  
As she was leaving the school building she felt her shoulders hunch up protectively even before she saw him heading towards her.  
  
 _Oh_  no. Not happening. He could drag her to some stupid restaurant for lunch but there was no way in the world that he was walking her home.  
  
She broke into a run. So did he.  
  
Aaaah, why did he have to have such long legs? It was completely, totally unfair.  
  
He was rapidly nearing her and she needed to escape. He was wearing that cheerful, happy, “I am so happy to have seen you” grin and she just knew that if she had to face it head-on she was going to end up giving in.  
  
Oh heck no, not a dead end. Dammit. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to where she was running and-  
  
No other way out, then. She bent her knees, braced herself, and leaped.  
  
“Woah!” He shouted up to her, open-mouthed. “That was  _so_  cool! Show me how to do that!”  
  
“Ha! In your dreams!” She said, and dashed off across the rooftops, filled with bliss at the knowledge that it would take him a good ten minutes to get to where she was by road, and by that point she would be long, long gone. 


	3. Chicken Farming Disasters are a Hazard of the Job

That evening she swung by the temple to pick up her clothes.  
  
“Hello, Mel.” The priestess said. “I know you’re here to pick up your clothes, but could I talk to you for a moment first?”  
  
“I didn’t do it,” she said, automatically.  
  
“Of course you didn’t,” the priestess said, soothingly, “Not that I want to know what ‘it’ is. I’d just like to talk to you.”  
  
Reluctantly, she followed the woman into a small, pale blue room.  
  
“Have a seat,” the priestess said. “You were having difficulties with nightmares, correct? That is why you came to us.”  
  
“Um,” Mel said, fidgeting, “when can I have my clothes back?”  
  
“In a moment,” the priestess said. “Mel, here at the temple we try our best to heal and soothe all who come to us.”  
  
“Yeah, okay, I get it. I came, right? I was healed and soothed. The End.”  
  
“Not… quite.” The priestess said, looking uncomfortable. “Look, really we shouldn’t have let you go to school today. It’s just that in your sleep you kept muttering about how if you were late somebody was going to kill you so we figured it probably would be best to make an exception.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Mel said.  
  
The priestess sighed. “The nightmares you were having- not the ones you had here, those were normal nightmares- the nightmares you had before you came here. They’re not going to go away just like that. And they’re very unhealthy.”  
  
“So… what am I supposed to do?” Mel said.  
  
“Therapy,” the priestess said.  
  
“No way!” Mel protested. “I’m not… crazy, or anything like that!”  
  
“Therapy isn’t only for people who are crazy, you know. It’s also for people who are having difficulties, period. Or even people not having difficulties who’d like it to stay that way.”  
  
“I don’t care. It’s not happening.” Mel said. “Absolutely not. Uh-uh. No.”  
  
“And how exactly are you planning on sleeping tonight, then? You think you can sleep through another night like last evening’s?”  
  
Mel thought about it for a minute, about the sickening horror of it, how she had woken so frightened she had lost the composure she had maintained for years.  
  
She shuddered despite herself.  
  
“Well… no… But wait a second, didn’t you give me something last night to make me go to sleep? Why can’t I just use that?”  
  
The priestess made a face. “The medicine we gave you last night is something used only in cases such as yours. It is an extremely potent, extremely dangerous drug which if used incorrectly can shut down a person’s brain. We don’t exactly hand it out to whoever wants it.”  
  
Mel found herself inching backwards. “So… last night you nearly killed me, is what you’re trying to say.”  
  
“A trained professional administered the dosage of the drug, Mel.”  
  
“Mhm.  _Real_  comforting.”  
  
“…That’s the reason why we want to be able to take you off it as quickly as possible. Right now, do you understand that you will not be able to sleep without our assistance? All we want to do is help you get to the point where you can take care of yourself.”  
  
“I can take care of myself just fine right now, thanks.”  
  
“I didn’t mean it like that. Look… Could you just… try it and see? Please?”  
  
Mel felt herself relenting. It was too much, too much unfamiliar strangeness for her to hold out for long.  
  
“Fine.” She said, grumpily. “Alright. What do you want me to do?”  
  
“Just talk to me,” the priestess said. “Tell me what’s bothering you…”  
  
\---  
  
“One moment. A vampress?”  
  
“Yes. With fangs and all that.”  
  
“And the mysterious stranger was a vampire, you say?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” Mel said, irritation rising.  
  
“But vampires don’t exist!”  
  
“…Let’s pretend for a moment that I know a bit more on the subject than you do,” Mel snapped.  
  
“Alright,” the priestess managed. “Fine. Continue,” she said, clearly not convinced.  
  
\---  
  
At several times during the story Mel found herself too caught up in the memory of it to continue. At those points, the priestess waited, patiently, for her to regain herself.  
  
Finally, Mel gave up.  
  
“Look, this is ridiculous, can’t I just-“  
  
The priestess sighed. “Yes, perhaps that is enough for tonight. But Mel-“ she said, fixing her with a look- “please come back tomorrow.”  
  
“…If you pay me.”  
  
“Ten gold pennies?”  
  
“…I’ll be there  _bright_  and early,” Mel said, and could barely keep herself from laughing.  
  
Easiest ten pennies of her life.  
  
\---  
  
“You  _have_  to show me how you did that.” Edward said, intercepting her way, way too early in the morning.  
  
She glared at him.   
  
“Go away.”  
  
“Pleeease? I can think of about a thousand things we could do with it.”  
  
Wait. Just. One. Second.  
  
 _We???_  
  
She couldn’t manage to suppress the chills that went down her back.  
  
“Absolutely not.” She said. “Not that I have any idea what you’re talking about, anyway.”   
  
“The… the jumping thing!”  
  
“I’m sorry, Edward,” she said, trying to make it as clear as possible that she actually wasn’t sorry at all, “but I have to go to class. See? Here we are. At the door. Which I will not enter. And you will not.”  
  
“I’ll be waiting for you when you get out,” he promised her.  
  
Problem was, he probably would.  
  
\---  
  
A week later, Mel found herself on her hands and knees on the slate-tiled roof of Professor Grey’s office.  
  
“When you’re done cleaning the roof of pigeon guano,” Professor Grey said, “I’d like to teach you some basic hand-to-hand fighting skills.”  
  
He paused and smiled.  
  
“So I suppose I shall have to wait a few weeks, at least.”  
  
Mel chucked a glob of dried-up pigeon poop at him.  
  
“You are the most awful teacher ever,” she said.  
  
“I know.” He said. “You’ll learn so much.”  
  
\---  
  
“Don’t.” she said, before he had a chance to open his mouth. “Don’t even start.”  
  
“Um.” He said. “You seem in a bad mood?”  
  
“ _Wow_.” she said. “Just listen to the boy! I swear, he must be a genius.”  
  
“Well, actually I-“ He said, and he was going to mention the aptitude tests he had taken as a child but she cut him off.  
  
“Aaah! Don’t tell me! I really, really don’t want to know!” She clapped her hands over her ears and he couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
Had it been anyone else he probably would have been offended, or something. But she was so…  _prickly_. And it didn’t seem to be aimed specifically at him, more at the world in general. So it was just funny. He couldn’t really explain it more than that, he hadn’t really thought about it all that much, but…   
  
Not to mention that she just had a really expressive face and when she pulled her mouth to the side like that it managed to convey a sour mood in this charming, hysterical way.  
  
It made him have sort of less of a headache from this morning. Which had been bad and he wasn’t going to think about it, but he just… It was getting harder to sneak out unnoticed and he was sure that it was deliberate, that somewhere, someone had made a conscious decision to start tracking his movements more thoroughly…  
  
He realized he had been lost in his thoughts for a moment, because Mel was waving her hand in front of his face.  
  
“Hello? Anyone home? Good. I’m leaving.”  
  
He grabbed her hand. He needed a distraction, badly, and she probably needed one too.  
  
“I know the perfect place for curing bad moods,” he said.  
  
“Pfft, another restaurant? No thanks,” she said. “If I need to, I can go on my own.”  
  
“Not to  _this_  place, you can’t,” he said. “It’s off-bounds. Completely not allowed, and  _completely_  worth it.”  
  
“Not interested,” she said, but her eyes flicked back to him for just a second.  
  
“C’mon,” he said, ignoring her protests. “I promise you it’s worth it.”  
  
\---  
  
She found herself being dragged along, and more disturbingly she found that she was  _allowing_  herself to be dragged along, and that was probably something she would have to discuss with the- her mouth twisted- nice priestess. (One week of being forced to spill her guts over in the Temple was more than enough, she was going to have to make tonight the last session. Even if those coins were oh, so pretty. They weren’t worth two hours of being asked about her  _feelings_.)  
  
This hand-holding thing was a bit much. She twisted her arm away  
  
“Can you slow down?” He slammed to a halt, so that she nearly crashed into him.   
  
“Sorry,” he said, continuing at a more normal pace. “I forgot you’re short.”  
  
Somewhere, something in Mel’s mind broke.  
  
“I’m not short! You’re just freakishly oversized!”   
  
“Actually, I’m only a half-inch above aver-“  
  
“Shut up! We’re not having this conversation, because we are not friends- Even if that single simple fact cannot seem to get through your massively thick skull to your proportionally tiny brain! You are a know it all who talks too much and it’s  _so_  annoying and… and…” She fumbled around for the words. “Annoying! Really annoying! And frustrating! And stubborn!”  
  
She glared at him triumphantly, feeling a weight lift off her chest and fly away singing into the heavens.  
  
“So you’re coming, then?” He said.  
  
…From somewhere high in the heavens the weight came crashing back down. She slumped from the heaviness of it.  
  
It had never been this  _hard_  to say no before.  
  
“Fine,” she said. “Just this once. Because I’m curious, is all.”  
  
“I knew you would be,” he says cheerfully. “So here we are.”  
  
She had been too distracted by the conversation to notice her surroundings, but now she took the chance to look around. They had stopped before a small metal gate, off the corner of a marble-paved square. A stone’s-throw away to the side was a line of helmeted guards, leading up to the castle.  
  
“You have got to be kidding me,” she said. “Edward, if your idea of “off-bounds” and “completely worth it” is the  _Royal Gardens_ , I am seriously going to smack you.”  
  
“That’s not it!” He protested.  
  
“Isn’t it?” she said. She stepped forward, into the garden. “Ooooh, look at me! I stepped into the Royal Gardens! What an adrenaline rush! Better step out quick, wouldn’t want someone catching me!”  
  
“Shhhhh!” He said urgently. “Stop shouting, someone will notice.”  
  
“Notice  _what_ , Edward? In case this managed to  _escape your notice_  or something, the Royal Gardens are open to the public! That’s right! Shocking, I know, but  _anyone_  can go there! No one cares! And they’re dead boring too!”  
  
“Just be quiet and follow me, okay?” He said. “You could try being a little more positive and…  _trusting_  for once, you know? It’s not like I’m going to drag you all the way here for nothing.”  
  
“I have very strong doubts,” she grumbled, but went along anyway.  
  
He led her towards the farther side of the garden.  
  
“What do you see?”  
  
“Um,” she said. “Grass, trees… Flowers? Oh, and a statue of the goddess. Fascinating.”  
  
He shook his head, frustrated.  
  
“There! Over there,” he said, turning her towards the wall.  
  
She stared at it blankly. “Um… is there supposed to be a secret code from the way the bricks are aligned or something?”  
  
“No!” He said. He sighed. “Do you not see the  _gigantic_  jutting out portion of the wall?”  
  
“Oh,  _that_ ’s what you wanted me to see.” She said. “It’s probably just some room from the castle, right?”  
  
“Wrong.” He said. “It’s not even connected to the castle- step back a bit and you’ll notice that behind this entire wall there’s thick line of trees, that’s a border around the castle yard. The castle itself isn’t even close.”   
  
“Oookay,” she said, intrigued despite herself. “So what is it?”  
  
Instead of responding he pulled her away.  
  
“Hey!” she said. “I thought we were checking out the weird jutting wall-thingy! Where are we going?”  
  
“I couldn’t figure out how to get in,” He said. “I asked my-  _around_ \- and I found out that this section of the wall doesn’t actually belong to the royal family at all. It’s priestess property.”  
  
“Huh?” Mel said.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “Because this is the goddess’s garden, really. I mean they call it the royal garden because it’s right next to the castle but it’s not, actually. When I found out I read about it and it turns out this has been around for  _decades_ , probably more like  _centuries_! I mean not in exactly the same form, it’s changed, but-“  
  
He was starting to talk excitedly, moving his hands around in the way he always did when he was getting really into something. All those lunch outings with him that she hadn't been able to avoid meant that she knew full well what that meant-  
  
She coughed slightly.   
  
He startled and broke out of what had been the beginnings of a two-hour long rant.   
  
“Right. Sorry. Where were we?”   
  
“You were leading me away from the wall for some reason.”  
  
“Yeah…” he said. Suddenly he looked nervous.  
  
“Look, you absolutely, absolutely cannot tell anyone about this, okay? They’ll skin me alive.”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me, then,” she said, feeing uncomfortable.  
  
“No, it’s not- I trust you. I mean I don’t actually know you that well, or who you are, or who Dejal is for that matter-“  
  
“Huh?” she said, but he continued.  
  
“But I sort of have this… feeling, yeah?” He gave her a smile that made her feel suddenly, uncomfortably warm. “And you’re interesting.  _Really_  interesting.”  
  
“Why,  _thanks_ , Edward.” She said, drily. “I do so love feeling like a freak show.” She saw him opening his mouth to protest and sighed. “I know. Alright, fine, I’ll keep your stupid secret. But that’s all I’m promising, okay?”  
  
He looked confused. “Was I asking you to promise more than that?” He said.  
  
 _Yes, you were_. She wanted to say.  _You keep saying ‘friends, friends’ and that’s just one whole big damn promise I’m not willing to make_.  
  
But instead she said nothing.  
  
“Alright,” he said, and his voice has hushed to a whisper. “Can you just… keep a look out? There’s a line of trees that should be blocking us and no one comes up here this time of day anyway but warn me if there’s any, you know, passerby-“   
  
He turned his head side to side as he said this, checking for himself. And then he swung one leg over the side of the well they were standing next to.  
  
“Wait, what are you doing?” She asked. “There’s water down there, you’ll drown! Or if there isn’t, you’ll break a leg-”  
  
But he was ignoring her, and had now clambered into the well, hanging onto the side.  
  
“There’s a ledge,” he said, “a little tricky getting to it if you don’t know where it is but I was lucky the first tim- Oof.” And he dropped out of sight.  
  
“Edward?” She said, suppressing a sudden surge of panic.  
  
“Um,” he said, voice gone all echo-y. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Can you come over to the well?”  
  
Hesitantly she did so.  
  
“Alright, um… move more to the left. No, other left. Right. A little further. Back. There, perfect.”  
  
“What are you trying to say?” She said, trying to call down to him and whisper at the same time.  
  
“Can you jump down?”  
  
“Um, no way in hell.”  
  
“Please?” And he had just the right note of pleading in hi voice but- ha! She couldn’t see his face! She was immune, that was right, and even if she hadn’t been there was no way she was going to jump down into that big inky void of darkness…  
  
Which was of course how she found herself jumping in anyway. Because if she left she would never know.   
  
She couldn’t help but let out a muffled squeak of- not fear, not panic, she wasn’t scared at all she was just terrified out of her mind by big dark black spaces- and then someone caught onto her and she tumbled backward into a circle of faint yellow light.  
  
“Ow,” Edward said, and she stumbled off him.  
  
The circles of faint light repeated themselves, forming a faintly lit pathway, and it was along this path that they now walked, Edward stooping to avoid the ceiling and looking quite uncomfortable in the process.  
  
“Where are we-“ Mel began.  
  
“Shhh,” he said, cutting her off. “Echoes carry.”  
  
They walked along for not more than a minute or two, and then the passageway suddenly widened and brightened, revealing a short stone staircase in a pool of sunlight.  
  
“Alright,” Edward said, as they were going up the stairs. “We can talk now. But I think it’s better to see this for yourself-“  
  
And she found herself breathless, as they stepped out into a small, wall-enclosed yard filled with butterflies.  
  
“Oh.” She said. “Wow.”  
  
“I thought you’d like it,” he said, smiling. “The priestesses only ever come here at night- these are night butterflies, you know, and they let them loose to pollinate the goddess’s garden. It’s really relaxing to come here… just kinda dangerous, because it’s really not allowed. At all.”  
  
“…You don’t… think the goddess minds, do you?” Mel said.  
  
“Nah,” Edward said. “It’s not like we harm anything, right? Plus the butterflies like us. They get bored, stuck here. Adults just like messing things up.”  
  
“…Yeah,” Mel said, contentedly, as a butterfly landed on her nose. It was bright blue and red, and for a moment she thought she saw it waving at her.  
  
Edward frowned for a moment. “You have to be careful, though. There’s something about this place…” He yawned. “It makes you kinda sleepy. Once I nearly got caught, cause I fell asleep. So I stopped coming here.”  
  
“Mmmm,” Mel said, eyes heavy.  
  
“But now if it’s the two of us we can keep each other awake, right?”  
  
“Mhmmm.” Mel said. She felt someone shaking her and opened her eyes reluctantly.  
  
“Did you not hear what I just said?” Edward said.  
  
“Not… really…” Mel confessed, reluctantly.  
  
“Be careful not to fall asleep!”  
  
“Why?” She said. It would have been so nice… to just drift off…  
  
“Because… because it would be boring! And lame.”  
  
“Mmm,” she said.  
  
“Mel,” Edward said. “Where are you from?”  
  
“Um” she said, “I’m from…” and she jerked awake.  
  
She had almost said the truth.  
  
“From… A faraway desert,” she said at last.  
  
“Really?” Edward said. “Then why are you here?”  
  
“Oh,” she said. “Um. Well. I was an… um. A chicken farmer, that’s right. I farmed… chickens. But then someone came along and told me to come here, so-“  
  
“Dejal?” Edward asked.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Dejal. You know, that person Master Ulaf mentioned that night you came here.”  
  
“Oh. Right. Dejal. Yeah, Dejal came. And told me… That there was this really, really horrible thing that was going to happen. To the chickens. All of them. Like a plague, with boils. And they were all going to die and there wouldn’t be any more chickens and that would be bad because…”  
  
She trailed off, partially because she wasn’t sure how to end that sentence and partially because she saw she didn’t need to, as Edward was gaping at her in horror.  
  
“Wait, so- What are they doing about that? I mean, they have to be doing something about that, right? They can’t just- I mean they can’t just let all the chickens die, right?”  
  
“What? No, of course not. That’s why he sent me here. He said that somewhere in the city there is a… um, a secret book. With the cure. So. Yeah,” she finished, lamely.  
  
Edward looked enraptured. “Wait, so you were a chicken farmer?”  
  
“Um…” she said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’d kind of prefer you not… tell anyone…”  
  
“Oh no of course I completely understand it’s just that it’s so- so-“  
  
“Weird?” She offered.  
  
“Cool!” He burst out, starry-eyed. “I’ve always dreamed of being a chicken farmer… slaving away under the hot sun… heroically rescuing chickens… coming home every day to a thatched hut and a scratchy feather bed and having chicken dances… Only of course you know all about that, don’t you?”  
  
“Oh. Yes. Yes. Of course I do.” She said, hurriedly. “Why, those chicken-feather beds… the stories I could tell about them! You need exactly the right feathers for that, you know?”  
  
“Really?” He said. “What kind?”  
  
“The… Well, lots of people think you need the soft ones, right?”  
  
“Right,” he said. “Are you saying that you don’t?”  
  
“Exactly,” she said. “They’re awful. Too squishy. You need those big ones… nice and firm, they are, if you lay ‘em out just right. Why, we have chicken-feather parties all the time back where I live- lived.”  
  
She paused.  
  
“But… Honestly it’s hard for me to- to-“ Her voice cracked. “To talk about it. Because. Well. Dejal told me… that in order to save the chickens… I had to give up on being a chicken farmer.” She paused dramatically. “Forever.”  
  
He gasped.  
  
“That’s… that’s horrible, Mel!”  
  
“I know,” she said, hiding her face in her hands and choking back laughter. “So I… I really don’t want to discuss it, Edward. I hope you understand.”  
  
“Absolutely,” he said. He rose and stretched. “Uwaaah! I feel refreshed. This place is great, it really is. And I bet you feel better, having that load off your chest.”  
  
“Edward…“ she began, the first pangs of guilt creeping up on her.  
  
“Don’t worry!” He said. “I won’t tell a soul. I promise.” He flashed her a grin.  
  
She found herself smiling back. Fine, it was all an enormous lie, but… He looked so excited. There wasn’t any harm done.  
  
“Let’s get back to class,” she said.


	4. Never Grow Too Attached to Your Snails

He was trying to figure out how to sneak into the kitchens to grab something to eat- he was  _starving_. Tonight’s meal had been black roe and foie gras with truffles or something like that. Expensive and digusting- he’d been forced to sneak it to the dog, and he’d felt guilty because honestly even the  _dog_ \- a spoiled little white pompom- didn’t deserve that.  
  
The light touch of fingers against the back of his neck made him jump. He whipped around, heart pounding, mouth try, half expecting it to be his mother with a passed-out Muffin in her arms.  
  
But it was only Mr. Obeleni.  
  
“Oh, hi,” Edward said, too casually.  
  
“And what do  _you_  have to smile about, pray tell?” Mr. Obeleni said, and Edward felt the smile fade.  
  
“You have not showed up to class for a  _month_ ,” Mr. Obeleni hissed. “And so I finally have time to check your homework, only to discover that your answers were all Quack Quack Quack written over and over!”  
  
“I… um. I’m sorry?” Edward offered.  
  
“And then I come down to see what vitally important matter it is that occupies you, only to find that, once again, you are  _fooling around_  in a manner completely unsuited to your position. I have tried, I have tried to be patient and tolerant, but this is the end. I cannot stay in a position where I am- every day, constantly, consistently- mocked by a pupil who refuses to listen to a word I say.”  
  
“I don’t-“ Edward protested   
  
“You will be hearing from your father about this one, you may be sure,” Mr. Obeleni hissed.  
  
\---  
  
Mr Obeleni had had a very, very bad day.  
  
It had started in the morning.  
  
That was how most days started.  
  
This particular morning had started with his wife dragging him out of bed by his toes and kicking him out of the house.  
  
Then the people in the street had laughed at him.  
  
Then his wig had started slipping into his eyes.  
  
The people in the street had laughed harder.  
  
And now- now he arrived, at last, at the work he had sunk months of energy into- that his wife, his wife had- that was besides the point...  
  
And the prince was an insufferable, ungrateful brat.  
  
And now, he wasn't going to take it anymore.  
  
The Queen and King could try their hardest- their hardest!- to appease him.  
  
But not a word they could say would convince him to stay a moment longer.  
  
\---  
  
King William sighed.  
  
Edward stood before him, looking unrepentant. Of course.  
  
“Do you have an explanation, Edward?” the King asked.  
  
He'd had a long talk with the Queen, before arranging this meeting. He'd thought that was a good idea. He tended to lose his temper at these sorts of things. Gwyneth was more sensible, but even she was sometimes at a loss at how to deal with- a teenage boy. A teenage boy who was increasingly more impossible, stubborn, unruly...  
  
Had  _he_  ever been like this?  
  
Dear Goddess, he hoped not.  
  
\---  
  
His father was up to the part of his speech that involved duty. And honor. And responsibility. He was getting quite caught up in it, too, pacing around Edward, waving a hand for emphasis. When he got worked up his father's voice tended to go a bit staccato, in a way that was somewhat irritating.  
  
"Do you understand, Edward, your actions have ramifications, political ones you can’t even imagine. Imagine how it looks to the common people, when the crown prince goes through six tutors in one year.  _Six_!"   
  
Up on the ceiling had been painted, decades or more before, a bright fresco of knights and princesses wandering through the heavenly labyrinth, in an exaggerated caricature style. Here the knight with the long nose was fighting off a dragon with a sword Edward would never have been able to lift off the ground, much less swing like that…  
  
“It’s not like we haven’t tried, your mother and I,” his father was continuing. "And we know that you're really a very good boy, you're just going through a... difficult... stage, but honestly, Edward. Can't you for a moment think of someone other than yourself? Poor Mr. Obeleni, he was nearly in  _tears_ , when he left. ...And also muttering about his hair, but I'm not sure that- In any case, Edward- Edward? Edward, are you listening to me?"  
  
“Yes,” Edward said. One of the princesses sitting around had short black hair and a smile slightly less blank and complacent than the others’, probably a dab of paint that had fallen wrong. In a very general, abstract, not-actually-but-maybe-sort-of way, she looked familiar.  
  
He felt his mouth quirk upward. After their trip to the butterfly garden, Mel had–well, when they went off for lunch she protested but walked with him anyway, without his having to physically drag her.  
  
It was kind of…  
  
Actually, there was a princess with green hair there who looked  _completely_  like Lydia, down to the preening way she was holding a mirror.  
  
“What are you smiling at?” His father roared.  
  
“I… um…” He’d been smiling?  _Oh_  boy, he though, and cringed.  
  
His father took a deep breath.   
  
“ENOUGH! Edward, this attitude of yours is absolutely unacceptable! You can't continue to sally through life as if nothing you do is of any importance! You are the  _prince_ , dammit, and it is time that you started  _acting_ like it! I am unspeakably disappointed in you!"  
  
His father paused and breathed heavily.  
  
When he continued, it was in a calm, flat voice.  
  
"Your mother and I have decided that the only way you will understand that you actions have consequences is if you occasionally are given the opportunity to experience them yourself. So for the next to weeks you are grounded. You are not allowed to leave the castle. You are not allowed to go to school. You will be expected to complete reports upon selected books in the castle library and do not dare to think of trying to escape because so help me if you are caught you will know the true meaning of  _consequences_. Do you understand me?"  
  
“Yes, father.” Edward said. He stood there for a moment, feeling cold and hollow. Then he turned, biting his lip, and walked out slowly.  
\---  
  
His room was large and blue. Very large, very blue. Other than that, there was precious little of interest in it. When he’d been small he’d made all sorts of secret trapdoors and such, and stashed away little secret things and been quite satisfied with himself until the day he’d found one hiding spot slightly disturbed. From there it had taken only a few quick tests to confirm that none of his “secrets” had really been secret at all, that the cleaning ladies went through each cranny and reported the contents to his mother.  
  
He’d been nine at the time.  
  
In the years that followed he had learned that it was vastly preferable to not keep secrets at all. A prince had even less right to privacy than a king- both belonged to the people, as his tutors were fond of pointing out, but one was owed some modicum of respect and one was…  
  
He was bored out of his mind but he didn’t want to leave the room, didn’t want to even risk the humiliation of having to make small talk in the hallways…  
  
His stomach growled and he curled up under his down blankets and waited miserably for sleep to somehow happen.   
  
It was going to be a long night.  
  
\---  
  
She had already opened her mouth to protest him dragging her off somewhere and being annoying and _Edward_  when she realized he was not, in fact, standing there waiting for her.  
  
Well. Today she had actually managed to avoid having to cut Professor Grey’s toenails or sweep the North Staircase or anything at all, really, so she had for once finished on time.  
  
She was feeling rather good about herself, actually. Professor Grey was a horrible teacher raised straight from hell but she had never had so much stuff crammed into her brain and surprisingly it felt kind of nice…  
  
In any case he probably hadn’t finished class yet.  
  
Which meant she could escape! She’d never even thought of that as an advantage to finishing early, but if she ran really fast and hid he wouldn’t possibly be able to drag her along with him!  
  
…Or she could look at the, uh, tiles. Which were very interesting. And that tapestry hanging on the wall was so marvelously… tapestry.   
  
She stood in front of it stroking an imaginary beard.  
  
“Why yes, a marvelous piece of craftsmanship indeed, shows the delicate interweave of schmageggy that creates such a marvelous balance in the elements of thingy,” she said, pompously, leaning forward to peer with a fake spectacle at the fabric.   
  
This would be the part where he would laugh. And then tell her more about said tapestry than she could ever possibly have even  _thought_  about wanting to know because, she was realizing, the boy was not only a know-it-all he was also actually kind of a freaky genius. Not in the usual “smart” way, though, that was the thing. Just… able to spew loads of really random trivia, and not only that but get really enthused about it so that he’d start talking really fast and-  
  
She was never ever going to actually say it out  _loud_ , of course, but she sort of didn’t really mind that much anymore, either. Because it was actually kind of interesting annnnd where the heck was he anyway?  
  
It was five minutes past when she usually got out.  
  
Great, she thought. She had been wanting a nice quiet lunch break for  _ages_ , and he’d never let her have one and so now she was going to… to go off and have her lunch. By herself. Without him annoying her. Which was awesome.  
  
And yet she found that she was walking slowly down the hallway, rather than at a virtual trot- to keep up with Edward’s stupid stupid long legs- like usual and.  
  
Gaaaah.  
  
She sped up the pace, gritting her teeth. Stupid. Annoying. Boy. Who she was  _not_  going to think about because that was the entire  _point_  of him not being around, that she could finally not have his annoying face plastered all over her life.  
  
An even so she  _still_  found herself hesitating at the exit from the school, half-expecting him to pop out and say “Boo!” and this would all be some ridiculous joke of his and-  
  
“Not funny, Edward,” she said, and no one answered.  
  
Oh, this was ridiculous, she thought furiously, and strode down the pathway away from the school.  
  
\---  
  
When she found herself walking into their usual café she nearly screamed at the sheer stupidity of it all. She settled for banging her head against the wall, which made a waiter come to ask her if she was quite okay and whether she possibly needed anything.  
  
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “I didn’t even mean to come here but I…” He was gazing at her politely and she realized that she lacked the courage to just walk out without ordering anything.  
  
“Can I just have a… something to drink.”  
  
“You won’t be getting the Couple Special?” He asked.  
  
“The  _what_?”   
  
“No, I’m sorry, it’s just that you usually get the Couple Special.”  
  
“I- We’re-“ She began, hopelessly trying to refute his assumption, too ridiculous to even be thought, but she settled instead for: “ _No_ , I will not be getting the... that. Thing. Can I just have a drink. Please.”  
  
She sank down into the nearest seat, face bright red. There was something wrong with her, that’s what it was. And as soon as she figured out how to fix it she was going to-  
  
“Are you sure it’s safe to be meeting in a café?” The person behind her said in an urgent whisper.  
  
She froze, resisting the urge to turn her head.  
  
“Don’t worry,” someone said, in a silky smooth voice. “The safest place to meet is out in the open.” He murmured something that Mel, straining to hear, could barely make out as: “No one suspects anything that way.”  
  
“I’m just… I’m just not sure about this-“  
  
“Whaaat, you’re chickening out? Are you sure you’re safe to do that, at this point?”  
  
“N-No, it’s not that, it’s just that I-“  
  
CRASH.  
  
Three tables away, a waiter had tripped and fallen, the plates from his tray shattering on the floor. Mel winced as the noise level in the room rose and any hope of overhearing the conversation, already a difficult task, vanished. By the time the dishes had been cleaned up and the café returned to normal, her neighbors were discussing shrimp cocktails.  
  
She rose, stomach clenched, to pay for her drink. As she placed her money on the counter she turned- casually,  _casually_ \- to catch a glimpse of an old, moustached man and an… empty seat.  
  
Dammit. She had missed her chance to see who the second speaker was, and she had a very strong suspicion that that was important.


	5. Why if it isn't a Damsel in Distress

She wasn't worried when he didn't show up the next day, either.  
  
She had to stay late to carefully pluck pieces of lint out of every single one of Professor Grey's pillows and when she came out he wasn't there, so she figured he'd gotten bored and left.  
  
Nor was she worried the next day, when he didn't show up. Again.  
  
She was most definitely absolutely not worried about him when, for the sixth day in a row, he completely failed to show up outside her classroom, to annoy, irritate, and harass her.  
  
To the contrary.  
  
She was glad! She was glad he was leaving her alone! She'd been asking him to do that all along, after all. At least once a day, in fact. It was gratifying to know that the boy had finally listened. She'd rather gotten the impression that he never listened to anyone, ever, unless he felt like it.  
  
Which of course meant he'd felt like leaving.  
  
Well fine.  
  
She hadn't wanted to be friends with him anyway.  
  
She wasn't offended  _at all_.  
  
\---  
  
The next morning, as she stumbled blearily out of her apartment to school, she passed by one of the newspapers that were always tacked up all over the place.  
  
“STRING OF DISAPPEARANCES CONFOUNDS CITY,” read the headline. Underneath in smaller letters it said “Officials suspect murder or kidnapping”.  
  
“Oh my god,” she said, eyes wide. “ _Edward_.”  
  
She broke into a run.  
  
\---  
  
She dashed into his classroom.   
  
“Has anyone seen Edward?” She gasped, panting.  
  
“Um, no,” one of the boys said. “He's been gone for a week, why-”  
  
“A week? You're sure?” she said, heart thumping, stomach somewhere in the vicinity of her knees.  
  
“Positive.” The boy said.   
  
“Did he tell anyone where he was going?” she asked, desperately.  
  
The boy edged away from her. “Not that I know of-”  
  
A light cough interrupted them.  
  
Mel whirled around and found herself face to face with Lydia.  
  
Damn. She tried to avoid the girl whenever possible.  
  
“And  _why_ ,” Lydia sniffed, “Should a little  _street rat_  like yourself have any right to be prying around about the- about Edward? You should know your place, trash.”  
  
“The only trash I see here is you, Lydia.” Mel said. “Tell me, did a swamp monster throw up in your hair or did that color just happen naturally?”  
  
“Why you little-” Lydia began.  
  
Mel realized it was useless. No one had any information here.  
  
“Terrible talking to you,” she said, with a mocking bow at Lydia, and left.  
  
\---  
  
Afterward she almost regretted it. Lydia had a tendency to appear as if she knew something about Edward that Mel didn't. It was... something about the way she said Edward's name. With an extra  _inflection_. It was the kind of thing Mel would have dismissed as Lydia putting on airs, if Edward hadn't always been so eager to keep the two of them apart. As in, he forcibly dragged her away whenever he saw Lydia coming, and he had been openly, obviously relieved when Mel had said she tried to avoid the girl whenever humanly possible.  
  
Actually, never mind. It made perfect sense for Edward to want to avoid Lydia, too, and to be relieved if Mel had the good sense not to like her either.   
  
She was not thinking approvingly about Edward thinking approvingly about her. She was just... She just... agh.  
  
She  _wasn't_.  
  
...Not to mention that there was absolutely no chance she would have gotten any information out of Lydia anyway.  
  
\---  
  
She realized she would have to go about this her own way.  
  
And so that afternoon she slipped out of school and down to the southern part of town, where the tavern, jail, and brothel shared a cozy little corner of an alleyway.  
  
She sat down at a wooden table with one leg uneven so the whole thing wobbled, and looked around. Taverns were excellent places to gather information, if you knew how to recognize the right sort of people for that kind of thing. This tavern, however, looked rather dull and lacking in intrigue, beyond the usual slow-brewing brawl. She waited, slouching into the bench over a mug filled with a... mystery substance. Well, alright, it was probably beer, but the sort of beer she'd rather not bring anywhere near her internal organs, if possible.  
  
In the corner, fading into the shadows, was a man in a dark cloak.   
  
Mel very quietly got up from her seat and casually sidled over to the corner.  
  
“Why, hello,” the man said. “You look... curious.”  
  
“Possibly,” Mel said, casting him a sideways glance.  
  
“Can I help you with that?”  
  
“It would depend,” she said. “Seen anyone interesting around this... place?” She gestured.  
  
“I might have,” he said, carefully. “Although it is hard to remember these sorts of things, you know. The mind goes.”  
  
“The mind can't be persuaded to come back?”  
  
He coughed lightly. “Well, for an incentive...”  
  
“20 gold.”  
  
He laughed. “You must be far less curious than I had thought. 50.”  
  
“Or maybe I doubt your information will be of any use to me, anyway,” she said. “30 and that's all I've got to offer.”  
  
“35.”  
  
“30,” she repeated. She really didn't have more than that to spend right now, not if she wanted supper at least.  
  
“...Alright then,” he said, grudgingly, and waited expectantly.  
  
She fumbled for her money bag and counted out the coins reluctantly into his hand.  
  
He tucked them smoothly somewhere in the folds of his cloak.  
  
“...Well?” She said, impatiently.  
  
“You asked if I'd seen anyone interesting around this place,” he said, and flashed her a nasty smile. “Well, I haven't.”  
  
“W-what?”  
  
“It's been the same old boring regulars ever since the police started cracking down on this place. And thanks for the gold, miss.”  
  
“Why, you-” She hissed, and then stopped short, catching a glimpse of the hilt of a knife tucked into his belt.  
  
 _Bastard,_  she thought furiously, clenching her fists, but there was nothing she could do.  
  
She stalked away, and the sound of his low chuckle made her face flame as she headed for the door.  
  
\---  
  
She was furious for all of three blocks before she managed to calm herself down. She'd get back at the jerk later, for the time being she needed to focus on the task at hand.  
  
So the coppers were cracking down on the tavern. That made it a dead end, probably- Kidnappers wouldn't hang around there, it would be too conspicuous. Practically safer to meet out in the open.  
  
She stopped short.  
  
Safer to...  
  
In her mind the pieces clicked into place quietly.  
  
Oh.  
  
How utterly obvious.  
  
She rounded the corner and arrived at the cafe. 


	6. Everyone likes Zombie Vegetation except for Zombie Vegetarians

The man behind the counter was spectacularly unhelpful.  
  
“You didn't see anyone suspicious in here?” She asked, again.  
  
“Even if I did I wouldn't be able to let you know. Store policy. Customer privacy is important,” he said, stiffly.  
  
She leaned forward, surreptitiously. “Not even for... compensation?  
  
Who was she bluffing? That stupid jerk in the tavern had practically demolished her money supply. Still, it was worth a try.   
  
“I don't accept bribes,” he said, icily. “Please get out of my store.”  
  
She tried to think of something to say to convince him, but she could tell it was of no use. Thick-skulled, smug little jerk. She always hated the ones with honor most, because they were just as horrid and couldn't be bribed.   
  
She swallowed back the memory of Harburg and all that place entailed.  
  
She walked out of the store, but lingered, outside, hoping to see someone, something...  
  
If nothing else, she was planning on breaking in and raiding the store register. They must have a customer log, or something.  
  
The owner saw her, hanging around outside. She watched him turn to one of the waiters and point.  
  
She watched the waiter put down his tray and head towards the door, and for a moment she hesitated before breaking into a run, dashing around the corner, but she tripped over a cobblestone and had to catch herself from falling before breaking back into a sprint, and then the waiter had already grabbed hold of her arm.  
  
She whirled around, ready to kick and scratch as necessary, but he let go almost immediately, panting for breath. She saw he was trying to say something.  
  
“What?” She said.  
  
“Manager sent me after you,” he said.  
  
“I noticed. You planning on arresting me or something? I didn't break any laws.”  
  
“No, I... can we move further away?”  
  
They were around the corner and out of eyeshot from the shop, but only just barely. She went along with him for another block and then stopped.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
He looked around nervously.  
  
“You're looking for suspicious people?” He asked.  
  
“You've seen some?” She asked.  
  
He paused. “Well...”  
  
“ _Where_?” she said, barely refraining from shouting it.  
  
He paused again. “I could tell you,” he said. “There were two men. They looked suspicious, but they also forgot to tip, so I followed them home to... um... well...”  
  
She waited impatiently.  
  
“Hex them,” he admitted. “Only they disappeared into some alleyway- but I could show you which one.”  
  
She waited for him to continue.  
  
“Well, that's only if you help me,” he said.  
  
She'd figured that was coming.  
  
“What do you need?”  
  
“I need a bouquet of roses from the florist's,” he said.  
  
She raised her eyebrows. “Why can't you get that yourself?”  
  
“Er...” he said, fidgeting. “Because I've been given a restraining order not to go there.” He flushed, and continued defensively- “it's not my fault they don't understand the beauty of my magic!”  
  
“...Your magic.”  
  
“Flowermancy! It's like necromancy, but with flowers!”   
  
“Uhh...” Mel said.  
  
Clearly the boy was out of his mind.  
  
Well, whatever.  
  
“So I get you the roses and you'll show me the alleyway?” she asked.  
  
He nodded. “Meet me after my shift, though. If I stay out an longer my boss is going to kill me.”  
  
“Fine,” she said, and walked off.  
  
\---  
  
The flowers cost all the rest of her money.  
  
Damn Edward, that idiot, he wasn't worth this bloody trouble-  
  
He was an idiot, really. He'd probably walked right into some damn dark alley because he thought it looked interesting. He was so completely... so...  
  
She forced the image of him gagged and helpless out of her mind.  
  
\---  
  
“Here's your flowers,” she said, proffering them stiffly.  
  
The boy's eyes lit up. “They're beautiful! Genuine Grande Vin Roses! Oh, the thing I could do... Muahahahahaha-” He stopped midcackle and coughed, self-consciously.  
  
“Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.”  
  
“...Right,” Mel said. “The alley?”  
  
“Right this way,” he said, and led her down several twists and turns to a small narrow street she didn't recognize- slightly distressing, since she'd been working on getting the feel of this place. But Thais was so _big_...  
  
“Okay,” she said. “Where did they go?”  
  
He shook his head. “I dunno. They disappeared. This is the furthest I can show you. But you've helped me out a lot, thanks!”  
  
He paused.  
  
“Hey, if you're ever in the need of a flesh-eating zombie rose...”  
  
She shuddered.  
  
“I'll keep it in mind,” she said.  
  
\---  
  
Once the boy had left she was alone in the alley to examine it at will.  
  
She didn't believe the men had disappeared.  
  
If so where were they?  
  
There was a sewer grate... they could have gone inside...  
  
She struggled, trying to lift it. It was too heavy.  
  
Could they have lifted it, in time to disappear?  
  
She couldn't rule it out, but...  
  
She looked around. Protruding from the wall was a drainpipe at convenient weist-height... from there it was but a hop-skip to the rooftops.  
  
She considered for a moment and decided it was worth a try.  
  
Using the pipe for leverage, she clambered upwards and then jumped, swinging herself over the roof edge.  
  
She stood up carefully and suddenly remembered her last rooftop excursion, when Edward had been chasing her.  
  
If she was two men trying to hide something...  
  
She looked around.  
  
There.  
  
Four houses, their windowless sides back to back, forming a perfect little hiding spot.  
  
She was about to creep closer when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.  
  
Panicked, she leaped down into the street and then strolled along innocently as if she'd been a part of the scenery all along.  
  
Just in time, too, she thought, as she cast back a discreet glance and thought she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving over the rooftops.


End file.
